


Practice writing because school

by ThIs_is_A_nAme_98769



Category: Original Work
Genre: Short, Water, for school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:42:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThIs_is_A_nAme_98769/pseuds/ThIs_is_A_nAme_98769
Summary: It's about water and it's short.





	Practice writing because school

**Author's Note:**

> I had a sudden urge to write, so I did. Now im going to upload it to the internet, because it's thrilling.

I've never been too fond of water, the unforgiving depths hiding anything from your sight; though, I can't say the same about my parents. They were once sailors, they always spoke so fondly of those memories. I suppose that's why I ended up on this desolate island in the middle of some far-off ocean. My parents left me not long ago, but I can't seem to  
leave, it's as though the island forbids it.

It wasn't always bad, but now, everywhere I go I can hear it. The crash of rushing water hitting rock and earth. It's even begun to leak into my dreams, I can't seem to escape it. I'll sometimes go and sit on the edge of the cliffs, the fragile rock slowly beaten away by the waves for thousands of years, just waiting to tumble like an unstable sand castle, bringing me to my watery grave. I'll stare for hours into the dark below the rushing water, maybe there's something staring back at me from beyond my sight. Residing just below where the water grows too heavy to let light pass. Even the supports to the old rickety dock fade into an engulfing black. The light glittering innocently on the water's surface, lulling you into a false sense of security. If you look out far enough it's all you can see, the sun’s light reflecting off so far the water appears to simply drop off.

Before I know it a whole day will have passed; my body aching from the lack of movement. I'll stumble back along a cracked stone walkway; to my old salt corroded house, to see if sleep will come to me tonight, and what might await me in my dreams when it does.


End file.
